return the gun

the ancient drum
beats out the body.
got here before now.
chanting on forest drugs
or cellar drugs
tells the story
when it makes no sense.
there is nothing
to figure out.
space ships have always
littered our sky
and trashed our minds.
we make the wheel
and travel ourselves to hell.
families on a wagon,
sometimes youre afraid
that theyll live.
too sad to cry
too strong to die
too much to live for to live.
more dust than the road to hell
you scare everything away.
the wind blows itself away
the devil hides inside
of his own *******
and prays to be eaten finally
and forever.
tries to pay for your pain
in red skin.
tags and tokens
mean nothing to the man
who lives inside.
more strength than the body.
that glowing floating heat
is a stone
at the bottom of the lake.
pain is an object
not to be bought.
souls are never to be sold.
you are more infinate than old.
love is everywhere
but it lays you down
like a thousand hammers.
beating you into the ground.
beating the sound
from the drum.

on its brothers.

they seem to think that they are whatever the opposite of fiction seems to be.